I cook dinner, clean the house, run a taxi service, help with homework, dry tears, and make them smile.
I'm just like you . . .
I have the same questions as you. Will my kids succeed, will school be easy or hard for them, will they have close friends, will they be happy?
I'm just like you . . .
I too, can be so frustrated that I take refuge in the bathroom to hide my tears, I do yell, I do get angry, and I do get embarrassed.
I'm just like you . . .
You may not see that side of me. The me you see is happy, well - adjusted, and together. The me you see, has everything under control, handles stress with ease, and can get everything done.
I'm just like you . . .
or am I?
I get sad that my kids aren't like the other kids. I get frustrated that God has allowed them all to have special needs. I worry everyday whether or not they will be bullied at school for being different. My heart aches when I see other kids look at them strange or see that their hearts have been crushed.
I get frustrated when I see a parent that doesn't understand my kids. They don't get it. I get hurt when parents tell me that it's my fault they are like this. I am sad when I know my kids struggle with little things like tying shoes, buttoning, and hopping on one foot when they are old enough to know how.
I'm just like you . . .
My kids make me smile, they bring laughter in my life, they give hugs and kisses that make my day brighter. They make my life better.
They are unique.
Gifts from God.
Ones that I treasure with my whole heart.
I'm just like you.





















